Stolen Kisses
by BixIsHere
Summary: A two part Glass Believer ficlet. Set between the first kiss and the proposal - Fluff and more fluff, because we didn't see any of this on screen. Inspired by a list of spring vocabulary from tumblr. Kplus for mention of abuse and abandonement, as well es mild swearing.
1. Flowering Feelings

_**efflorescence**_ _(n.): the state or a period of flowering_

It wasn't that they wanted to keep it a secret.  
They didn't hide holding hands, they didn't shy away from longing looks at each other. And Jack wouldn't let Henry hear the end of it.  
But there was a certain thrill in stealing away, in sneaking past the camp guards.  
Or to pretend they snack away, when really, Hook just didn't throw another glance their way.

And that kind of thrill should have been ephemeral, but it grew on Ella. Sitting on the dead wood with the brook's burble concealing their voices, she learned so much about the man she met.

About the boy he'd been and how he grew. How his worst heartbreaks had been his mothers lying to him, and how eventually his first love had hid the truth from him as well. How wanderlust had led him past a portal, through the Thieves' Mountains and lately, to join a resistance. She learned that he was credulous and impulsive, but for some reason, she didn't shy away.

Instead, she shared her heart with him. How her own two mothers abandoned her, one physically, the other emotionally. While they feasted on figs he brought in his musette, she admitted her pain and guilt upon losing Ana. Over the afterglow of sunset, she confessed completely giving up the hope of finding not just lasting love, but true friendship ever again.

But this hope flared up in her again. In the resistance, she had found people truly on her side – not just against the woman who had abused her and the land for so long. These people stood by her as _Ella_ , as the person she was.

Among them was he. Stolen kisses and whispered words, scintillate skies mirroring the sense within: She had taken the risk and went to a place she had feared to ever tread again: She cared for him so much she'd miss him if he'd ever left her life. Whenever they returned to the camp and parted for what's left of the night's rest, she felt him leaving her side like a limb being torn from her.  
But for some reason, that was sweet sorrow.

Because she didn't only allow herself to care, she allowed herself to trust. To trust that on the next day, he'd still be there, and he'd again kiss her, he'd still love her. To trust that he wanted to do so – and to allow herself to want that, too, for many more days to come.

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 **AN: Hey, thanks for checking by and reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I'm thinking about maybe writing a companion piece from Henry's point... would you like that?**  
 **What did you think about this work?**  
 **I'd love to read your thoughts, so please leave a comment down below :)**


	2. Can I Have This Dance

_**erumpent** (adj.) **:** bursting forth_

Leaning against a tree, he waited for her. He had the excuse of gathering wood, and she was out to search the area for enemies. Everyone was well aware why they took much longer than they should, but no one minded. Not even Tiana, although she pretended to. She kept grumbling that Henry was inefficient, but she always did it with a smile.

It felt awfully lot like they were teenagers sneaking around, and really, Henry hadn't quite anticipated to experience that again. It didn't feel like an epic quest for love… but truly? It didn't bother him. Rather, he marveled at the ease Ella allowed herself to around him.

Behind him, he heard the faint sound of hoofs, a thud, and steps bouncing toward him. He was greeted by a bright smile, and it felt like the sun shone right in his face. "Hey," she all but shouted at him.

"Hi," he gave back, and closed the distance left between them to press a kiss on her lips.

He took her in, her scent, her arms around his back, her soft skin as he brushed her cheek. When they broke the kiss, studied her features for a moment. Then he quickly kissed her again to hide the idiotic grin.

Yep. Like a teenager.

Time to break the tension.

"Glad to see none of Tremaine's minions plucked you apart on your way here."

"Tss, I can say the same to you, Mills. You're the poor lead on the sword."

"You take that back… "  
He quickly found the spot where her sides were unprotected and tickled her. She tried to run, but his legs were longer and before she could get anywhere, they had tumbled to the floor, a chaos of limbs and her locks, and her lips where on his again.

He enjoyed the rush that came over him. She was so beautiful, and so fierce, and feminine in an extreme way he had never seen before. And she was here only to see him. She allowed him to come so close and be with her, and showed herself to him.

When they broke the kiss, he leaned on his elbow to study her once more.

"Where did you learn to fight so well, anyways? Not exactly a school subject over here, I suppose?"

She scoffed. "I wish. We learned posture. And embroidery. And reading, but not the interesting books. If our tutor had ever caught me practicing sword fighting, she'd had me stand in a corner for an hour."

"So no Math? Or Biology? Geography?"

"Geo-what?" She turned from her back to her side, gazing up to him. The way her vest fell open in that pose was most likely unintentional. Most likely.

"Well, learning how to read maps. And the weather… and really our school is much more about learning how to read and to listen and to understand tasks rather than learning how to actually _do_ things..."

His gaze had trailed over the clearing but snapped back when her fingers started drawing circles across the back of his hand.

"All together that sounds just as boring as our lessons."

"Well, it was. But I still enjoyed school..." his train of thought was lost for a moment when her fingers found the seam of his sleeve to play with. This woman was gonna be the death of him.

"You did?"

He cleared his throat. "...yeah. Sure not all subjects were interesting, but outside of classes we had quite a lot of free time. I used that for chess club, and hanging out with friends… and there were the occasional school festivals. Sports day, flee markets, or prom..."

"Who would want to buy flees?" She acted confused, but her smirk told him the truth.

"Alright, mock my world all you want, but prom is something you people miss out on."

She pushed herself up to her elbows and quirked an eyebrow, prompting him to elaborate.

So he did. "It's much like a ball, except it's for everybody. Everyone dresses up and there's a lot of food and dancing… Just instead of a castle it's set in a gym,… a sport's hall. And the music is much different."

Ella let herself fall back on her back. "Well, I don't mind missing out then. I'm not much of a dancer."  
Henry chuckled. Then an idea formed – didn't he find it in his satchel just this morning? "There are way less steps involved, though. - I could show you actually."

Before he could change his mind, he got up to collect what he needed from the bag under the tree. He fiddled with the music player and the headphones. Boy, he was jumpy. Would he ever outgrow his nerves around a girl?

"What are you doing?" Ella had sat up now, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion in her expression.

"Just come on." He pulled her up and handed her one of the ear buds. "Put that in your ear. Wait a second… ah, yes."

Beats started sounding from the speakers and by the time he directed her hands around his neck, the ethereal sounds changed to the lyrics.

 _Oh I heard you were trouble, and you heard I was trouble_

His hands held her waist and he started swaying with her from foot to foot.

"It's called a slow dance."

"What is? The stepping or the screaming man inside your machine?"

"You don't like it?"

She listened for another moment, and damn, even though she may not call herself a dancer, she was pretty good at this.

"No, I like it." Her eyes found their way into his, and her gaze pulled him down right then and there. He wasn't able to tell if her next question was a few seconds or a few hours later.

"And what would you do after a prom? Are the girls leaving slippers there as well?"

He chuckled. "No. Well - there aren't specific rituals about that, but usually the guy picked the girl up, so he also gives her a ride home. Not on a motor cycle, though, in a car.  
So, I would have borrowed my Mum's bug, no, rather Mom's Mercedes to impress you, and drive you home. And I would have prayed to whatever power rules our lives, that you allow me to give you a good night kiss.  
And then two days later I would have texted you and told you I really enjoyed our time, and if you wanted to go get some Chinese take-out with me."

His words seemed to have over whelmed her a bit. He had told her what texting meant, hadn't he? Her gaze seemed fixated on the buttons of his shirt, so something was probably bugging her mind.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

She bit her lip before answering. "I don't know, … Don't you ever miss that life? It sounds so full of wonder."

It was his turn to take a moment for his answer. He hadn't expected that.

 _We could be King and Queen of the moonlight, two young lovers, and when the mood is right..._

"There's no place I'd rather be."

He didn't want her to feel obliged to look at him, so he pulled her a little closer into his chest. Maybe, this way, it was easier on her. And then he whispered in her free ear: "But it'd be an honor to show you, if you'd ever take a trip with me to that world."

 _Because I, I, I wanna be you man._

And he realized it, at that moment. That it wasn't just about stolen kisses and the thrill of getting to know her better. He liked her, he really did and he hoped she did as well. He wanted her to stick around and to become a consistent part of his life – so that when he'd think about returning to Storybrook at some point, it would mean she would come with him. And at that moment he was glad her face is buried in his shoulder, because the idiotic grin was back.

Just like teenagers.

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 **AN: There we are with the companion piece. Same inspiration and same theme but completely different take - with the POV and the very detailed scene, compared to the poetic summarizing style in the last.**  
 **What did you think? Isn't Slow Dancing just the cutest (most cliché) thing? Leave your thoughts down below! :)**

 **Btw they are listening to the song Pull Me Down by Mikky Ekko (the song Henry complements on when Jacinda gives him her mixtape in HH), and the lyrics in italic are obviously not mine.**


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